Broken Mirror
by Tempest E. Dashon
Summary: Dash-#13 Title Challenge Fic-History proves the winners write the story. The glamour of being the one who came out on top of the conflict and stands victorious over their enemy. What the books don't show you is what happens to the people on both sides after the war is won. Harry knew this to be true as the papers wrote of the glory of being the savior but all he had was the anger.
1. Chapter 1-Lift the Veil

**Greetings and Salutations!**

**So this...thing...attacked me today while I was being indecisive about what I was going to do. I sat down and started to just write until I made a decision and this happened. **

**I said no more WIP's and I thought I meant it but as I have 5 or 6 of them on my PC that I have not gotten back to I realized by posting, it forces me to finish them because I will NOT leave you readers hanging.**

**So I will say I have no set update schedule for this one and I have no clue at all where I am going with it in any sense. I have no ships planned though you can bet it will end in fluff and romance and all that Hufflepuff stuff because I can't help myself as we all know. **

**If you need to, I can understand waiting till its marked complete to read. For those of you who decide to start the ride now and take it with me...hang on cause I have no clue either lol.**

**Always**

**~Tempest**

* * *

Harry watched with an impassive look as children and parents bustled about on the platform. To any other person the scene would look like a normal day of witches and wizards making sure they had all their supplies and textbooks and robes for yet another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. To him, and he was pretty sure to the two unwavering companions at his side, it looked like a trap…a lie that was meant to lull them into a false sense of security.

All the smiles and the laughter, the joy and the excitement only helped to exacerbate the overwhelming paranoia they all felt that once again something was going to come after them, try to kill them or destroy the world they had worked so hard to save. His mind healer had explained that it was a natural part of his recovery…something called Post-traumatic stress disorder or PTSD. He was supposed to have patience and breathe through his episodes and try to focus on something that felt solid and real to him.

Turning his head he let his eyes focus on his solid…his real. Both of them stood almost the same way as him, backs to the wall, no part of them left vulnerable as they watched the display with something close to apathy on their faces. He knew better of course.

Hermione hid her pain and rage behind a wall of blankness, trying to keep the memories and the present dark magic that crawled in her veins contained in just her arm. It was a sort of worry for their mediwitch which of them would be the first to snap and let lose all of the seething fire underneath their apathy, him or Hermione.

Ron on the other hand kept his face that way because it was the only other thing he allowed himself to feel besides a yawning chasm of regret and sorrow. It seemed with the death of his brother his penchant for flying off the handle in anger had been washed away on the many rivers of tears they had all cried.

All three of them had taken to dressing with the aim to ward people away from touching them or even wanting to come near them. Ron had cut his hair and it stood up on his head in tiny spikes of burnt copper, held in place by some muggle product Hermione had found for him to use.

His shirt and trousers were black as night, the sleeves short to show off the Celtic knot work he had tattooed on him over the summer. The shirt had a picture of a dementor that looked to be climbing from his lower back, around one side, and up his chest. Magic made it look like it was moving in a slow breeze and Harry had to admit it even gave him the chills.

Hermione on the other hand was covered as much from head to toe as she could be. Her shirt was more a thin, long sleeved hoodie that was one size too big for her. She had cut holes in the cuffs to push her thumbs through so that the fabric covered half of her hands as well and could not be easily pushed up. Her skirt was checkered in black and red plaid with little metal rings along the sides that gave it a very metal band rocker look. It flared out from her hips and ended a few short inches past her bum.

A pair of skin tight black leggings, with imprints of what he guessed was roses in lace ran up her legs and were tucked into a pair of knee high, heeled combat boots. The silver buckles on the boots gleamed like sunlight off the surface of a calm lake. Her nails were painted black and red to match the skirt, a sort of half and half design that seemed oddly pretty against the rest of her.

Her hair hung in dark chocolate curls down her back but was tied away from her face with a black rose clip at the top of her head. Her makeup, a new thing to try to cover some of the exhaustion she had from not sleeping, was dark around her eyes making them look like pools of honey trapped in layers of tar. Her lips she kept a deep burgundy red like the wine the Minister preferred to drink when they had dinner. He wondered with the dark magic inside her if she would taste just as bitter sweet as the wine did.

Shaking that thought out of his head, frowning at himself for even thinking it in the first place, Harry turned his head away just as Hermione turned to look at him. He knew what she would see now. A boy turned man, careless black hair still running in all directions with no keeper. His skin was paler than usual as he barely went outside anymore due to all the reporters.

His clothing was a black button up shirt and slacks all pressed perfectly so that he looked like one of the hated sacred twenty-eight everywhere he went. His publicist had demanded at least one of them look half-way presentable and he had been chosen…as per usual. Being 'chosen' really did suck dick. Though if anyone had to hold that burden, he would rather it be him. It was the least he could do to allow his best friends the freedom that they seemed to crave so much more than him.

Speaking of press, he could hear the flash bulbs going off, the wretched vermin trying to get any picture they could of the famous 'Golden Trio' while they were out in public. The honor guard of Aurors they were given as protection kept the bulk of them behind a magical line while still allowing those who were supposed to be here through. He was pretty sure at one point at least one of them would find a way through. He could only hope they did not make the mistake of pushing up against Hermione…she was a bit sensitive to being touched without her expressed permission now.

The whistle sounded with the shrill tone of a dying harpy and Harry saw out of the corner of his eye both of his friends jump slightly as he did. Loud noises were just one of many things they all hated now and it seemed that the summer in the mind healing facility had not fully healed that little issue either. If it had not been Ministry mandated he knew none of them would even be here. He was pretty sure Hermione was still contemplating fleeing to America and hiding among the magic communities there.

If she went…maybe he would go with her. He really was tired of the pomp of England's magical world anyway.

* * *

Hermione leaned against the wall that separated the train station buildings from the actual platform. The scene was one she knew well but this year the feeling of excitement and awe were replaced by a numb acceptance of finality. The Dark Lord was dead and yet nothing seemed to really change at all. Those in his service that survived were either in Azkaban if their crimes were proven to be unforgivable or they were on probation and back at their manors…like the Malfoys. All the blood, the pain, the scars…all for nothing.

She turned her head in time to see Harry turn away and knew he had been doing his usual exercise for when he started to feel too tense. She knew because she did the same thing in her way. Whenever the screams in her head became too loud, too terrifying, she looked for Harry or Ron to remind her that she was no longer in the darkness. Just seeing her boys whole and healthy, even if they were a little broken, could be the only thing to pull her back from the brink of insanity that she sometimes felt like she was slipping into.

She could not help the twinge of sadness that filtered through her as Harry unconsciously flicked his head to try to get the hair out of his eyes with a frown of dislike on his face. After finding out that his mentor and hero had pretty much raised him to be killed at the right time, his view of the entire world had tilted sideways. His disenchantment began at that point and had only deepened over the past few months leading up to them being forced to return to Hogwarts. If she could, she would bring that old bastard back to life just to fling him off the astronomy tower again herself!

If she cared to be amazed, it would amaze her at the change they had all undergone due to the war and the aftermath. As it was, she only ever felt one deep emotion and she used Occlumency to keep that in control as well. There was no need to let anyone else see that the bigots and the hate and the torture of the war had in fact broken some irreplaceable part of her. If anyone understood their dour Potions Professor now…it was her as her seething rage at the world and everyone in it bubbled and simmered just under the surface of her shields, waiting for a crack to break through.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she twitched to the loud blast of the whistle. As one they pushed off the wall and started to head for the doors to board. People moved as quickly as possible to get out of their way and though Ron was kind enough to return smiles and head nods, her and Harry did not even bother to acknowledge the throng of people.

At least not until one fell in a grunting heap at their feet. The cry of indignation made Hermione roll her eyes but otherwise her facial expression didn't change. A flurry of movement pushed through the crowd as Parkinson, Zabini, and Nott all moved forward to try to help the blonde wizard who was rolling over to his back with a groan.

Hermione watched dispassionately as Katie Bell stuck her foot out and tripped Parkinson, the other witch losing her balance on her ridiculously high heeled shoes and landing quite roughly on the palms of her hands and her bare knees. Her skirt was thankfully spelled to stay in place or they would have all gotten a nice look at what the pug faced witch considered appropriate knickers these days. As she fell, her trajectory would have had her colliding with Harry but with his reflexes honed from the war he stepped to the side and back just enough that she landed ungracefully at his feet.

Her shrill yell had Hermione cringing from the pain to her ears and with a huff of annoyance she stepped over the legs of the blonde prat on the ground and started to move forward towards the train again.

"Damn Granger…just going to walk over Drake like he isn't there and go about your day?"

The smooth Italian voice had her pausing, her head the only part of her to move as she looked up to meet Zabini's eyes. Quirking an eyebrow up in an imitation of Snape, she glanced over her shoulder at the wizard looking up at her from the ground and then back to the dark chocolate eyes of the one who addressed her.

"Yes Zabini…that is exactly what I am going to do."

Turning to continue on her way, the rage inside her calming slightly at his look of shock, she stopped once more at the shrill scream that followed.

"You bitch! What…now that the Order has won the war you are just going to sit back and let your sycophants attack us and do nothing about it?"

Turning slowly, the boredom on her face never shifting, Hermione stared down her nose at the witch just the way she used to do to her. It was amazing how awful and yet satisfying it felt to have the roles reversed for once.

"You mean am I going to stand by or walk away when someone picks on you, calls you names, tries to hex you, or otherwise make your life a living hell? Why yes Parkinson…it seems you have hit the bludger perfectly."

Bending down so she was eye to eye with both Malfoy and Parkinson, she let her shields drop just enough for a piece of her hatred and boiling rage to pour into her eyes. While the witch flinched away from her she was surprised that Malfoy sat still and his eyes seem to fill with understanding instead of fear or disgust.

"Not one of you bothered to stop and think for yourselves the past seven years. You tormented and taunted us for our status, money, our house or blood. You made sure to bully anyone that wasn't one of your precious pureblood nobility or willing to bow to your supposed superiority. Your archaic and unfounded ideals almost destroyed everything we are!"

She knew the sneer on her face was ugly but she had lost the hold she had on her own emotions as the magic inside her rolled and frothed with her anger, the dark magic in her arm seething to be let free to shred and rend.

"You tried to hand over our only hope, my best friend, to that noseless sociopath to save yourself. That is all you have ever cared about…yourself. You may be beautiful on the outside Parkinson but you are so twisted and ugly on the inside that it has leaked out all over the rest of us until that is all we can see now. You mocked us all for being who we were, caring about everyone, trying to save as many people as we could from his tyranny. Now you get to deal with what is left of us."

Her eyes widened and she turned her head to look up at Harry. For a moment Hermione almost felt sorry for the girl but the feeling faded just as quickly as it came.

"You're Harry Potter…savior of the wizarding world. You're the good guy, the face of the light. You can't let them do this!"

Her voice cracked on the end in what Hermione guessed was very hard to suppress emotions and knowing where this was going to go she turned her eyes back to Malfoy just so she could watch his face as she stood.

* * *

Ron stood still, his heart aching at what had become of his best friend and his best girl. Though he wanted nothing more than to step forward and help the two Slytherins off the ground and try to smooth the ruffled feathers, he would never sow discord between the three of them. No one was worth that kind of disharmony and pain anymore.

As Hermione stood back up he carefully wrapped his arm around her, going slow so that she knew it was him and did not lash out in fear or anger. He could feel her magic pulsing just on the surface of her skin and they did not need her to have an outburst out here with so many children present. She wouldn't mean to but he knew some of them would end up injured if it happened.

Letting his own magic unfurl he sent reassuring waves of calm against her even as he turned his dead eyes to Harry and watched the man he was now flood into his eyes as he addressed Pansy.

"Yes Parkinson…savior of the wizarding world...a lot of good that did anyone. Dumbledore is dead. Voldemort is dead. Most of the Death Eaters are still running free even if they are on probation because the corruption in the Ministry has not been entirely purged. You are all like a disease, spreading your cancer through the healthy and choking all that is good and pure with your vile presence."

Harry bent down so that he was face to face with the witch, his eyes a fire of anger as his frown turned to an imposing scowl.

"Everyone here knows how much bullshite it all is and the future generations will no longer stand by and let it continue. You want to know what a savior looks like after the war is supposedly won. He looks like a corpse still walking, his soul riddled with scars and his dreams torn to tatters by nightmares. He wakes screaming more often than he does silently and he sees danger and enemies around every corner."

Reaching forward Harry gripped her chin and raised her face so she was looking at him from a very uncomfortable angle. Zabini and Nott started to move to help only to be stopped by a dozen wands pointed at them.

"He forgets how to laugh, how to love, how to do anything else but watch for the next disease that comes to infect what he saved. He questions his life, his purpose, why he is even still here when so many others are gone and he mourns them with every passing moment. He is filled with rage and hate and the shine on the world dulls to a murky gray as he realizes everything he thought was true…was a lie!"

Jerking his hand from her face, he wiped his fingers on his slacks as if they were covered in something disgusting before clenching it against his knee.

"What light and good inside him has died and the only thing he can see is the jaded world for what it truly is. You and your friends made our lives hell for six very long years. You supported the doctrine of your bigoted parents and a sociopathic tyrant. You and your kind cost me and mine friends and family, loved ones we can never get back. I don't know what you expected Parkinson but saving you, protecting you, that is not my job."

"I did my part. I lived in abuse to stay hidden until it was time. I bled and cried and mourned as the years passed. And when it was time, I willingly walked to what I thought would be my death because that was what I was supposed to do. I was born and raised to die and if I had not had all three Hallows, I would have. Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, savior of the wizarding world died in the forest that night. If you are looking for a savior…turn your eyes to someone else. I am out of the hero business."

Standing back to his full height, Harry surveyed everyone around them and let out a very loud huff of annoyance.

"That goes for all of you. You want a hero…a savior…some shiny beacon of hope and life and light…look to others around you. If you look in our direction, you are going to be sorely disappointed. The 'golden' trio died somewhere between the trees in the Forest of Dean, the cold floor of Malfoy manor and the last stand at Hogwarts."

Harry's voice carried over the crowd and Hermione leaned on him as they headed for the train, the silence loud in the stillness and the anguish of those gathered tasted like ash on his tongue. Those who had fought in the battle filed in behind them, a show of support and solidarity against those who did not bother to lift a wand to help. They wanted to judge the survivors for not giving more and more and more when none of them had ever been in any real danger.

Once on the train, the three of them take one of the compartments in the center of the train. Luna, Neville, Ginny, Seamus, and Dean all joined them and they could hear the other members of the D.A. gathering in the compartments in front of and behind theirs. Surrounded by those they trusted to watch their back, the trio of friends got comfortable and waited for the train to take them back to where their nightmares happen. Hermione leaned against Ron as he leaned back against the window, his chest to her back.

Harry took the same position against her as she did on Ron and their arms came up to hold each other. They knew many articles had been written about their sordid triangle of love but none of them cared anymore for gossip or other people's opinions. The only time they all felt like they could hold themselves together was when they were connected at the hips and nothing was going to tear them apart ever again.

* * *

Draco watched the trio of lions walk away before sitting up and rubbing his hands clean on his robe. Theo reached down to help him up as Blaise carefully lifted Pansy back to her feet. Looking around he kept his face blank as he was taught as the crowd looked on. Not one person moved forward to try to help them and he realized this year had the potential to be even worse than he had expected. He could honestly say he never imagined the three saviors turning on everyone too. Like Pansy, he had hoped they would be the one factor that would tame or gentle the rest of the populous of Hogwarts…but that did not seem to be the case.

Looking her over, Draco noticed Pansy had scraps on the palms of her hands and on her knees but none of them were allowed their wands except in a classroom setting. With no way to heal the marks, Draco took out one of his monogrammed handkerchiefs and helped wipe the skin clean of dirt and blood. Her eyes were shiny as she did her best to hide her tears and keep them from falling and for a moment he hated his father and mother all over again.

"What are we going to do now Draco? All of us were banking on the trio being their usual holier-than-thou selves and keeping the others from attacking us. If we can't rely on their goodness to keep us unscathed…what do we do?"

Looking over at Theo with a grimace, Draco slid his arm around Pansy to help her up the stairs and on to the train.

"I have no idea Theo and I'm actually a little scared to even get on the train now. I'm starting to think spending the year in Azkaban would be better than being forced to go back to that school with this many people who hate us."

Blaise led the way further back on the train and as far away from the 'Golden Trio' as they could get. Finding an empty compartment near the very back, the four Slytherins piled in and took a seat with different sighs of worry and relief.

"Do you think Headmaster Snape is going to be able to make the other students leave us alone?"

Her voice quivering with her pain, Pansy continued to dab at her knees as she looked around at them all.

"I don't know Pans. He can make a lot happen but I am not sure even my scarier than Hades Godfather is going to be able to shield us this time. We just need to stay together and keep our heads down. It's just this last year and then we all can get our NEWT's and get out of England. There are plenty of places we can go where no one knows who we are or what we were forced to do. Let's just make it through this year in one piece…okay?"

All of them nodded their agreement and as the train whistle blew once more and the wheels began to churn on the tracks, Draco gazed out the window and wondered if any of them were going to be able to stick to that agreement. Hopefully the mind healers that were being forced on them at Hogwarts would be able to do some good and fix those that the war had broken…himself included. Either way he would find out as the coming days passed and he could honestly say he was not looking forward to any of it.


	2. Chapter 2-A Truth Revealed

***Waves sleepily and drops chapter***

**Still no idea where this is all going but this came out today when I sat down to write. So there is that lol. Hope you enjoy. It seems this fic may take on a longer length than I originally planned when it was just a concept. I feel like to do it justice, I am going to have to give ample time to all characters involved so I guess strap in for a longer than usual ride as of late.**

**Always**

**~Tempest**

* * *

The train arrived at Hogwarts with as little fanfare as possible. The trio waited until everyone else had disembarked before untangling from each other and heading to catch a carriage. Harry stepped off first, his hand on his wand as he looked around at the darkened grounds. He was pretty sure nothing was going to get to them now that they were safely behind the wards of the school…but you could never be too careful.

Ron stepped out right behind him, the same nervous and alert energy vibrating along his taller and thicker frame. Both boys looked around slowly, giving someone a chance to take aim at them before either allowed their heart to step off the safety of the train.

Once it seemed all was as it should be, Ron turned and reached up, carefully helping Hermione step down off the higher train platform and setting her lightly on her feet. Her smile was one of warmth and love and he returned it with one of his own before wrapping his arm around her waist as Harry did the same on the other side of her.

It didn't take the three long to catch up with the crowd and as the carriages filled up, eight to one carriage, they stayed well in the back. Harry couldn't help but grimace as he realized that they were behind the four returning Slytherins that they despised the most. This was going to be one long and annoying ride to the castle doors.

A soft call got his attention and realizing the carriage waiting had two spots left, Harry moved forward and ignoring her arguments hoisted Hermione up, keeping his hands on her hips until Neville had her well in hand. Looking at Ron he realized his best mate was giving him that no nonsense look of his and not bothering to try to win against the hard headed red head, he took Neville's hand and let the taller boy pull him up.

"You sure you are going to be okay Ron? We could wait and ride with you."

Hermione's quiet voice brought everyone's head around to face her. Her cheeks tinted a sweet shade of pink at the attention but she kept her eyes locked on the third piece of their puzzle.

Ron's grin was carefree as he ran his hand over his spiky hair.

"No worries Mione. I'll be fine. See you both in the Great Hall."

Turning he sauntered away from their carriage as it started moving forward, hands in his pockets as he stood like a sentinel just on the outside of the group of snakes huddled together waiting.

Harry felt a moment of panic squeeze his chest as Ron started to drift out of view and only Hermione's small hand sliding in to his to grip down kept him in his seat. He knew the feeling would not fade until he was back in their sights but he turned to keep his eyes on her to stave off the impending attack.

* * *

The hush that fell over the Slytherins had Ron frowning. He wasn't worried about being hurt or attacked. Not only were they without wands but none of them wanted a reversal of their pardons or a one way trip to Azkaban. Not to mention, he was pretty sure at this point, they were no longer the enemy.

As the new carriage pulled to a stop, Ron stepped forward pulling several pieces of raw meat out of the plastic bag Hermione had prepared for him. She knew out of the three of them, his ability to see the Thestrals was more of a comfort than upsetting. He somehow felt like they were the guides for the dead and he needed to believe that one of the majestic and terrifying creatures had helped to usher Fred somewhere safe and warm.

Gently letting his hand run down their flanks, he gave each of the four animals a piece of meat as he thanked them all quietly for their help. He turned only to be met with the openly horrified faces of a few of the Slytherins and contemplation on the others. He knew they could all see them considering what they had gone through but he didn't expect anyone else to understand his affinity to them besides Harry and Hermione.

Realizing that no one was going to move until he did, Ron moved to the steps of the carriage, his long legs carrying him in just a few glides. Gripping the sides he hoisted himself up, his back to the others showing them that he did not fear them in the least.

Turning he offered his hand to Pansy, her surprise evident in the way she flinched from him. He knew his eyes were sad and he really could not help that but he gave her a soft smile to try to soften the moment.

"Contrary to the rest of the school, I have no ill will towards you Parkinson and I would never hurt a lady. Please let me help you into the carriage. It is the least I can do since I am not able or willing to go completely against Harry or Hermione in public. Plus, I'd like to heal your knees if you will let me. I don't like to see wounds or blood on anyone but especially a woman."

The shock that rolled across her face would have made him chuckle any other time but right now he needed her to see his sincerity. Her hesitation only lasted another moment before she carefully raised her hand and placed it in his.

Her palms were smooth and soft, her skin slightly chilled from the night time air of Scotland in September but he felt the spark along his skin all the same. Her breath caught even as he wrapped his fingers around her hand to keep her from jerking away. Being as careful as he would with Hermione, he helped steady her ascent as Blaise placed his hands on her hips and lifted her from the ground.

She stumbled as she placed her other foot in the carriage and only his arms coming around her kept her upright. Her body trembled in his hold and the smell of jasmine and night trickled into his nose. Taking a slow, deep breath he took her into his lungs even as her wide, scared eyes met his.

Keeping his touch light, Ron took a step back and helped settled her on the bench across from him. He vaguely heard the others climbing up into the carriage but he couldn't seem to take his eyes off of her. Kneeling at her feet he managed to break eye contact and let his eyes roam down her body to her scrapped knees.

Slowly taking out his wand so that he didn't scare her more he mumbled the spells Hermione had taught him while on the run, watching as the magic cleaned the wounds and then healed the cuts and scrapes and soothed the pain in the bruises that were forming. Once her knees looked okay, he held out his hand for hers, meeting her eyes again in permission.

Her stunned look only made his heart beat faster. He had always thought Pansy was pretty but as she looked at him with little guile, her open face and eyes had another part of his broken heart melting. Someone as soft and beautiful as this witch should never have been touched or tainted by war and death. It was the worst of crimes in his opinion and he wanted nothing more than to wipe the fear out of her eyes and to replace the dull look with one that could shine with happiness and joy.

Mentally shaking his head as she laid her hand in his, palm up, Ron healed first one hand and then the other of any marks before gently placing a soft kiss in the middle of her palm and sitting back on the bench again. That seemed to be the signal as the carriage rumbled forward.

"Call me oblivious but what the fuck is going on? Your two friends pretty much pull a complete personality switch at the train station and admit they could care less what happens to any of us and you do the ass opposite now. What gives Weasley? What's your end game here?"

The frustration and annoyance in Theo's tone has him dropping his eyes from Pansy's confused stare as the apathy wells up inside him again to drown out any lingering pain that question could cause.

Giving himself a moment to build his own type of wall around his emotions, Ron looks up to meet the other boys eyes, knowing his were now empty and blank.

"There is no end game for me Nott. Harry and Hermione have their own dementors to slay. As do I. But mine are not as angry or as ugly. I spent too much of my time being angry and stubborn. I refused to listen to any reason. I flew off the handle at the slightest provocation and I lashed out constantly at the people I loved the most. I may have only lost one brother but that was more than enough for me to see."

Letting his eyes take in each of them one by one as he talked, Ron couldn't help but notice the dark circles under their eyes, the defeated and bowed shoulders or heads. They looked no different now than Harry or Hermione or he looked when alone and relaxed. There was no walls here anymore, no hidden emotions behind a veil of contempt…just broken young adults who should have still been innocent of such gore and gruesomeness.

"We…you and I…we did not want nor did we ask for this war. It rolled over us without any desire on our part. And it happened because our parents, and in turn we, stopped listening. We stopped caring about the thoughts or feelings of everyone…of others. We refused to listen, lashed out without any real reason or direction. We left ourselves and our world open for someone like Voldemort to swoop in and do exactly what he did."

Gesturing to them all as he spoke, Ron leaned forward and pulled Pansy's hand from her mouth, her nail bed bleeding from where she had chewed it raw. Using his wand again even as he continued speaking, he let more healing magic washed over her hand and smooth away the blemish.

"I may not be rich like you all but I am still a pureblood. That doesn't make me any less than one of you or any more than Hermione or Harry. In the end…we all scream under the torture curse, we all cry when we lose a loved one, and we all bleed red when cut down."

Giving Pansy another soft smile, Ron leaned back in his seat and met Theo's eyes again.

"The mind healers will be here and we all know they are going to force us to face our nightmares, to talk about them and bare ourselves until we are bleeding all over each other. They want us to bond and to heal and they don't care how broken we get before we do. I for one refuse to allow them to drag me further into the darkness in order to see the light. I'll take the short cut and just see the light now."

"I have no desire to hurt any of you. You were all children in a war just like I was. I know now that none of you really had a choice what side you were on any more than I did. If you still believe all that doctrine about being superior to people like Harry or Hermione or me than all I can say is I feel sorry for you. You are going to find life to be very unfulfilling and challenging and I hope you find your way through it."

As the carriage pulled in a circle to stop in front of the doors, Ron looked up to meet his best friends eyes, a reassuring smile on his face as he read the anxiety and worry they were both harboring.

"Harry and Hermione…they aren't who they used to be. All of you know better than anyone what happens when dark magic touches you, seeps into you too often. I am not saying they are right or wrong…they are just broken and until they can put the pieces back together in some haphazard version of who they are going to be…all anyone is going to see are the jagged edges that are going to cut anyone and everyone who steps too close. You had no tolerance than…they have none now. And the only thing that is going to change that is time…the one thing we have so little of."

Standing he moved to the edge and jumped down before turning to look at Nott one last time.

"You can't dictate how another person's healing will go or how they should be after such trauma. What you have to decide Nott is how you want to handle your own and what you want to offer the world as you do. It takes a cruel man to kick a starving and beaten animal who is already down. It takes a man of integrity and strength to patiently bring that animal back to life, to teach it kindness and trust. We were all made animals by this war…the question is…what man are you going to be now that it is over?"

With those final words, Ron turned and headed over to his friends, letting their arms wrap around him and he reassured them he was just fine and that nothing happened on the ride. Shaking his head at the questioning look Harry kept giving him, the three turned as one and headed in to the castle once more with four pairs of eyes watching, all with consideration churning behind their gazes.


	3. Chapter 3-A Broken Prince

**Are you shocked? Cause I am! This story seems to randomly get another chapter even when I am not sure if I will write when I wake up or not. Apparently my muse does whatever and doesn't bother to inform me anymore until I boot up Word. Go figure...primadonna that she is!**

**Warnings: This chapter begins our decent into the dark and broken nature of our characters. Anything can be mentioned or talked about from death to suicide, rape and abuse, and anything in between. As I have no idea what I plan to have done to anyone...I am giving this open warning now...things could and might get dark.**

**Driving (writing) without a beta, a direction,or a plan of any kind so hang on!**

**Always**

**~Tempest**

* * *

Draco sat with his elbows on the table, fingers linked together with his two pointers pointing upwards. He leaned forward to rest his forehead against the tips of the two pointed fingers as he let the fringe of his hair fall over his eyes to conceal his gaze. The vivid white strands still a momentary shock for him, an after effect of a spell his father used on him right before he was arrested. Turns out torture really could turn your hair white…especially if it was almost there to begin with.

Letting his eyes roam over the Great Hall slowly, he took in the happy and excited faces of the first years. They were the ones lucky enough to not be touched by the war here at the school at all and could just enjoy this new and magical moment for themselves…pun entirely intended. He couldn't help but scoff at his own mental jokes…he really did need to learn to lighten up some.

The second and third years were a little more wary and somber though it seemed the first years excited chattering was slowly rubbing off on them as well. He could see a slight tension in their little shoulders and was sorry that there was cause for it to be there at all. As he had learned in the recent years…children should be allowed to just be children.

The upper classmen from about fourth year on all had a more serious tone to them. Though they seemed to converse and smile, even laugh, it was all with a reserve that had not been there when he was a fourth year. Most of them had been here during the military like school year as The Dark…Voldemort reigned supreme and the wizarding world crumbled under his power. He was glad to see the bright house colors back and the black regime like uniforms gone.

The sorting had already happened and only one poor sod ended up in Slytherin as a first year. He almost wished Severus would resort the poor kid and let him find a home in another house. He had a feeling being the lone first year snake was going to be miserable. He needed to talk to Blaise about trying to make sure the kid had help from his older dorm mates to ensure his safety.

Unwillingly, as everyone around him slowly consumed their food, his eyes traveled once more across the hall to the three returning students that everyone seemed to be watching. Unlike in previous years where Granger was either across from them or on one side of one of them, she was now safely seated between Potter and Weasley. They looked almost like her body guards with how close they sat, bodies turned towards her to block any outside conversation or interference. Their heads were angled so they looked only at her or each other and Granger seemed to sit statue still except for an occasional nod at something that was said.

If he didn't know them better and just took what he was seeing at face value, he would almost be willing to believe the rubbish about them being in a three way relationship. Their closeness and lack of personal space lent a very sordid aura to their friendship. However, he did know better because it was the way he and his three companions were in private and sometimes in public. War and fear make strange bedfellows for everyone.

He had to admit that all three of them looked attractive wrapped in 'fuck off' black. He had watched the transformation by the papers just like everyone else had. The first few weeks after the final battle found the trio coming and going from the Ministry after having testified for or against certain members of the inner circle and death eaters. They had looked exhausted and harassed and very unhealthy.

The next month reporters were only able to catch small glimpses of them inside the walls of Serenity's Grace, the mind healing spa they had all been required to attend as they waited on Hogwarts to reopen. He and his 'kind' had been housed on the opposite side of the trio and their lot but he had seen them periodically through the windows as they walked along the paved paths during certain days.

They had started in war torn rags and what was obviously clothing they felt comfortable in. As it grew closer to the time they were to be released into the hands of their personal mind healer, he had watched as Weasley cut off his long hair and learned to spike it up. He started to wear black jeans or trousers and what he learned were muggle t-shirts that always had some creepy logo or monster on it like the dementor he had on today. The tattoos appeared three days before they were released and he had to admit that they gave Weasley a slight bad boy vibe.

Granger on the other hand always stayed covered as much as possible, even in the heat, and her muggle clothing turned from shades of blues and light greens and greys to solid black with hints of red. Somewhere along the way she had learned to tame her hair and whether it was up in a ponytail or hanging down her back, the waves were always silky soft and glistened. Her make-up grew darker and darker until she resembled the Wicked Sisters in their Gothic look. The tights helped to keep her modesty though the skirts grew shorter and shorter, as if she was rebelling against the good girl golden princess image that the papers had dubbed her with.

Where Granger went off the cliff and into sexy death witch territory…Potter seemed to fall the opposite way. His hair was still a riotous mess of black but Draco knew from years of watching him that it was intentional now. He looked like someone had been running their hands through it repeatedly and it conjured thoughts of heated skin and quiet moans. Draco hated him for it even more than he already hated him. His clothing no longer resembled the orphaned lost boy he was but leaned towards what Astoria had termed GQ…apparently some muggle saying that meant rich and handsome and well dressed. He sadly couldn't disagree…

The three of them cut an attractive but intimidating picture side by side and he knew it was again…intentional. They had not had the pleasure, or misfortune, of being in the group therapy sessions with the trio but he had heard interns and orderlies talking.

It seemed that Potter hated to have to talk to anyone at all and preferred to sit silently in his own thoughts. Granger could not stand to be touched by anyone but her two friends and even that was apparently rare to see in public. Weasley was the most approachable of the three but he took his duties as their friend and guard so seriously that he took on the same traits to help keep them safe.

So far it seemed to be working. There was a space on either side of the boys that was left empty and even though the D.A. members were all around them, no one seemed to try to speak to or involve themselves with the trio unless addressed first. It was odd to see such distance from the people who were the leaders of the war efforts at the school.

He knew what it had taken to break him but he had already been a little broken and definitely weak before it ever started. The trio though…they had been strong and full of fire and life. They had stood toe to toe with monsters and death eaters, against non-believers and with believers.

They had held their heads high and gave a two fingered salute to anyone who tried to take their places in this world from them. He honestly could not imagine what all they had to have suffered and seen and gone through to have broken their spirits so grievously. He wasn't sure he wanted to know though he knew he had no option in that. Not with the mind healers here at the school.

"Drake…you need to eat something…even if it's just an apple or some bread. You know if you stop eating again the mind healers are going to put you back on that mind altering potion."

Theo's soft words brought his eyes away from studying the trio and back to his friends. They all were watching him with worried expressions. He couldn't even blame them in the end. Out of all of them…he had been the one to give up first. The final curse from his father, being made to feel like a failure even after the war was lost and the proof of their mistake was laid out before them, had broken some part of him that he couldn't get back.

His mother had found him on the floor in the same spot that Bellatrix had held Granger down what felt like years before. His blood ran in slow lines down his arms as the world had turned colder and the colors had turned to gray. Her cries of fear and anguish had not registered then but were now very prominent in his nightmares. Unlike in his sixth year where her well-being was all he cared about…he had not thought about anyone else but himself.

He had wanted the pain to end. The longer he fought to stay awake and avoid the nightmares, the more his already broken mind blurred into a thing of horror. Screams and blood, maniacal laughter and hissed words of praise and anger, blended together until it was so loud in his own mind that he couldn't even remember who he was anymore. One cut became two, became ten until he chased the numbness and pain to the bitter edge and tumbled over it into no man's land.

He had almost succeeded in escaping it all. Damn interfering house elves and his overbearing and loving mother had saved his life and ultimately consigned him to this living hell that he now found himself in. His friends became chains around his neck and wrists, binding him to the solidity that was the Earth and refusing to let him slip away once more into the ethereal. He despised them all for it…and yet he couldn't have loved them more.

After he had recovered the mind healers had decided he needed to be medicated until he could be trusted to turn away from such destructive behavior. The potions they had him on caused him to walk through life in a sort of haze. Nothing felt real or solid and as the weeks dragged by he started to see the effects that had on his friends. They all grieved the loss of their best friend and as the potion amounts were lightened, he fought his way back to being strong enough to be left to his own devices.

Shivering at the very thought of being put back on those damn potions, Draco grabbed both a piece of bread and an apple and dug in. He never had much of an appetite anymore. Food tasted bland to him no matter what it was and he didn't see the point in gorging on something flavorless. Another side effect of the curse he assumed though the healers continued to postulate that it was his broken spirit that made him think the food tasted wrong…they were idiots!

His mental rambling was once again interrupted as the hall went silent. Severus stood at the head table, his black robes hanging from his now stronger and more filled out frame. His hair, once greasy, now had the same silky, healthy quality that Granger's had and he wondered if the same mind healer had helped with his Godfather's appearance too. His skin was a normal shade of pale instead of the sallow that it was before and the hollowness of his features was almost entirely gone.

Whereas he and his friends were having trouble letting go of their pain and allowing the healing to begin, his Godfather had all but jumped with both feet into becoming a healthier version of himself. Draco was as proud of him for that as he was annoyed with him for being able to do it. Of course this was not his first war nor was it his first time dealing with the darkness that Voldemort brought…so maybe he had a head start after all.

"Welcome back. As most of you know, I am Headmaster Snape. And as most of you know…I am not the most well liked person at this school. The past few years have been a test of our strength and our will to survive and I can honestly say I am very pleased to see all of you here…alive and well. I would like to take a moment of silence to honor those who fought and died last year to give us this moment…if you will join me."

As his melodious voice drifted over the hall, Draco dropped his head as the hall seemed to shift together. The moment was filled with pain and sadness as those who had lost someone remembered them and those who did not suffer a loss gave thanks to those who fought to keep them safe. His eyes traveled once more to the trio through his hair only to see them with their heads bowed and touching each other's in a show of absolute solidarity. He had a moment of pure envy before his Godfather cleared his throat once more to speak.

"This year we of course not only have our new students but all of those from the previous year are back as well to try to complete their studies that the war interrupted. Many of you will be able to tell the returning eighth years as they are no longer required to wear the Hogwarts uniforms nor will they be in the normal dorms. Please keep in mind that these individuals have had a terrifying last few years and give them the space and respect they deserve."

Walking around the table so that he stood in front of them all with no barriers, Draco watched as Severus' eyes roamed over every student at every table before continuing, his face softening into a genuine look of care.

"I know those of you who were here last year have a very dark opinion of me. I also know that the papers and courts have done their best to explain it all. That does not mean that you understand or can forgive me for my part in your torment. If at any time you have questions, need to get your feelings off of your chest, or need to just talk in general…not only are your head of houses available but I am as well. You will all find I am not the same Severus Snape you have all known in the past and I will take all the time you need to talk and reassure you that you will be safe in my care."

He knew no one else would see it but Draco watched his Godfather's hands shake slightly as he clasped them in front of him. He was amazed that Severus was willing to give of himself so openly but not surprised. Severus had told him over the summer that though he was a consummate Slytherin most days…he had no intention of hiding behind his ambition or his cunning with the students this year. He had urged Draco to try to open up as well but he was waiting to see how it went for Severus first.

"I can and will say how I sorry I am every single time it's needed though I am not sure how useful those words will be. I can only hope that you all will give me the chance to prove them to you as well as say them."

Rustling brought the entire Great Hall's attention to the back of the Gryffindor table as Potter stood up, his eyes trained on the Headmaster. Draco had no idea what was about to happen but could feel it in his bones that if this went badly…he was going to do something entirely stupid on his part.

"May I speak Headmaster?"

With a slight motion of his hand, the Headmaster bowed his head in agreement as he spoke.

"Of course Mr. Potter."

"You all know me or know of me at this point. I don't know how much weight my words carry anymore but I hope in this they can help ease the way for you all. The Headmaster is, was and will always be on our side. There was a thin line…a very precarious balance he had to keep in order to ensure your safety to the best of his abilities while keeping his place in the Death Eater ranks so that the Order…so that I…could succeed in my destined task."

Potter ran his hand through his hair and Draco could almost feel the discomfort that radiated off of him at the attention he had garnered. It must have been seriously important to him for him to speak to so many now with his disposition to stay silent.

"I am not going to tell you not to be angry…that would be hypocritical of me as I am always angry. What I will ask is that you give the Headmaster a chance to hear your anger and then talk to you about it. I spent several weeks going back and forth talking with him and I assure you, as much as I saw him as a hidden hero of the war, I was still so very pissed off at everything he did to me and my friends. But he took the time to let me rant and rave and then talk to me and I can say with all honesty…he has my utmost respect and admiration now."

Draco could see the fire spark in eyes of the boy-who-lived-again as he talked about his Godfather and for a moment he was thankful that Potter was still in that shell somewhere.

"He was the villain because he had to be…that was his role just as mine was the hero. I ask that you now give him the opportunity to be the person he wants to be…that he truly is…now that his binds are cut."

The two shared a long look for a moment before both of them bowed their heads at each other and Potter sat back down, immediately sinking into the arms of his two pillars of strength. As Severus continued to address the Great Hall, Draco heard none of it as his own darkness rose up to swallow him whole. What he wouldn't give to have that much conviction be on his side…for that kind of loyalty and love to be wrapped around his shoulders. In that moment he was not choking on his nightmares but on his unfair and unending jealousy.


End file.
